


Glass Boots

by Cheshire_Hearts



Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Cinderella, Dwarves, Gen, Hobbits, Slow Build
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-10-29
Updated: 2014-10-29
Packaged: 2018-02-23 03:45:01
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,889
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2532917
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cheshire_Hearts/pseuds/Cheshire_Hearts
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cinderella AU where Gandalf is a fairy godmother, aka wizard, who decides it'll be amusing to transform Bilbo into a dwarf for a ball being thrown by the grouchy King Under the Mountain. Bilbo thought it would be a fun experience, little did the Hobbit know how different it would be. Boots, weight, extra hair, and a language that only Dwarves know had never occurred him. Not only that, but the spell only lasts until midnight before it wares off and he's a hobbit again, which he decides is far too flashy for anyone, but this is Gandalf's magic after all.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Glass Boots

**Author's Note:**

> I changed the setting around a bit as well so that the story would work better. Anyways here's what I changed:  
> The Shire is near the foot of a mountain kingdom known as Erebor and the human city of Dale. Many Hobbits travel to Dale to sell wares only found in the Shire along with special ales (all from the Green Dragon). Dwarves, men, hobbits, and occasionally elves all travel to Dale to sell their items. Hobbits generally sell pipe weed and different kinds of cheeses, ales, or mushrooms.

The morning was mild for being at the start of Spring, but the young Hobbit was glad for a warm day after months of rain and snow. The sunshine felt wonderful on his face as he collected the wild mushrooms that had begun to grow in the fields behind his home. The land belonged to him and had been in his family for generations. He had been selling the wild mushrooms that grew all throughout the fields for years; although Hobbits loved mushrooms, there were far too many for a single Hobbit to eat, unless they wanted mushrooms with everything they ate.

Bilbo looked up at the sun and decided that his basket was full enough with the delicious looking mushrooms and began down the hill towards The Hill Road that ran through Hobbiton. He hurried down the road and began towards Dale, resigned to make the hour long journey on foot. It wasn’t a bad journey and the roads were well worn and well paved thanks to the Dwarven kingdom of Erebor. The mountain loomed in the distance a few hours walk from Dale, if you could walk fast that was.

The Hobbit did not mind walking and found it was enjoyable on a pleasant day such as the one that day. The sun was warm and drove out the last chill of winter, but it was not hot out and it made the trip to Dale easy and pleasant.

When he arrived in the city, the markets were roaring with life and many of the shop keepers called out to him in an attempt to get him to go over and buy their wares, but the Hobbit ignored them all. He already knew where he was going and he would not be swayed so easily. It was almost lunch time and many of the restaurants would be willing to buy the mushrooms from him for a pretty high price.

He knew of one cook who loved using mushrooms in all of his cooking and made straight for that kitchen. It was at the far end of the market area and so Bilbo was able to catch most of the current gossip that was being spread around. He didn’t listen much to it, but what little bits he did hear were interesting to him and intrigued him to some extent.

It didn’t take long for the fair haired Hobbit to find the shop he was looking for and he waltzed inside and politely asked for the main cook. The young Dwarves at the counter all looked at each other before one ran into the back. It wasn’t long after when a loud laugh could be heard from the kitchens. Bilbo recognised the laughter as the head cook’s; he faintly remembered his name to be Bombur. 

Soon, the large, red headed Dwarf walked out of the kitchens and into the dining area where he saw Bilbo waiting patiently. He smiled broadly at the young Hobbit before speaking. “Mister Baggins, it’s so good to see you! Glad I decided to work here today instead of in the royal kitchens.”

“Yes, well, so am I.” Bilbo replied, smiling. “I brought a bunch of fresh mushrooms today and I was wondering if you wanted to buy a few of them.”

The fat Dwarf’s smile widened before he answered. “Well, let’s have a look at ‘em and then we can decide.” 

They two spent a few minutes looking over the mushrooms and weighing them before Bombur was happy to buy all of them from the Hobbit. Bilbo smiled and they exchanged pleasantries before the Hobbit began to leave. He was barely out of the door when two Dwarrowdams passed by talking in hushed voices in Westron about an up coming ball king Thorin was throwing that weekend. 

Bilbo knew that was a very rare thing. The king was a very serious Dwarf and parties and balls were very rare at his court. It was also widely known that the king wasn’t very social and that he failed at almost everything that required a little bit of patients. Bilbo had never seen the king himself and was always curious about what he looked like, but there was always plenty of gossip about said Dwarf in the Markets for him to know enough. He understood that this was a very big and important event for most Dwarves who wished to visit the royal palaces of Erebor and even to get a glimpse at the Dwarven king. Even he was curious about what the inside of the mountain was like, especially the royal grounds.

Bilbo also caught the part about how it was a Dwarf only event and all other races were not allowed to enter the grounds. His spirits sank when he heard this part of the news and he sulked his way back to the Shire and all the way to The Hill and Bag End. 

He placed everything in its rightful place in his home before he decided to sit in the sun smoking his pipe. He had just gotten a new thing of Longbottom leaf the day before and was more than happy to sit in his yard and smoke it. He found that it helped his mood when he was upset or angry and generally made him calm.

The Hobbit had barely been out in his front yard, sitting on the bench in front of the gardens, smoking when a shadow passed in front of him. He blew out a smoke ring before opening one of his eyes to see what could possibly block out the sun. He blinked a few times before sitting up straight at the sight of an old man with a large grey beard and mustache in a dirty grey cloak with a pointed grey hat and a dark wooden walking staff.

“Hello, and Good day.” Bilbo said and waited as the cloaked man smiled faintly at him.

“Hello indeed.” The man said with a surprisingly deep voice for someone that looked so old. “And it is a Good day out, but what are you implying by stating such a thing?” 

Bilbo simply blinked up at the old man before asking, “May I help you?”

“Well, that remains to be seen, perhaps you are the one in need of assistance.”

The Hobbit frowned and blinked a few times before he stood up from his spot on the bench. “I’m quite alright for the moment, thank you for asking.” He cleared his throat before walking towards the mailbox to check it; it was a stupid idea considering he had already grab the mail before leaving for Dale that morning. He closed the mailbox and tapped out his pipe before turning the older man and smiling. “Well, Good day then.”

Bilbo turned and was ready to make a quick escape when the man spoke up. “Don’t think you can just ‘Good day’ me and then run off, Bilbo Baggins.” The man boomed and stood up off of the staff he had been leaning against. Bilbo froze and turned to look at him again. He seemed a lot younger standing up straight and not hunched over like an old beggar.

“Do I know you?” He asked, he couldn’t remember meeting anyone like the man before.

“You would remember my name if I told, though you seem to have forgotten me completely.” The man stated angrily before continuing. “I am Gandalf, my boy and you better not go forgetting it again.”

The name seemed familiar to Bilbo and it took a few seconds before it fully registered in his head. When it did a broad smile crossed his face and the grey haired man smiled back at him happily. “You’re that wandering Wizard that always set off those Wiz-poppers on Midsummers Eve at the parties Old Took always used to have!” He declared happily, which caused Gandalf to frowned deeply.

“I’m glad you at least remember that much,” he muttered to himself before looking at the Hobbit again. “And I can do a lot more than just set off pretty fire works, Bilbo my boy.”

“Can you?” He asked and took a few steps towards the wizard so he was no longer halfway up the steps to the front door of Bag End.

“Of course I can, I am a wizard after all.”

Suddenly, Bilbo had an idea; although he was certain it would be impossible. “Can you change a persons appearance?” He asked.

“Why of course I can, but what would a gentle young Hobbit want to turn into?” The wizard asked and Bilbo could have sworn he saw a flash of something in the older man’s eyes.

“Well, I was just curious is all. Could you change someone to appear as another race?”

“Certainly, but there are rules to those spells.”

“Is it risky?”

“Why are you suddenly so curious about this?” The wizard asked with a slight, knowing smile.

Bilbo cleared his throat a few times and rocked back onto his heels slightly before answering. “Well, I was just wondering is all.”

“Wondering? Wondering why? Perhaps it is that Dwarvish ball that has you suddenly curious about such magics?” Gandalf smiled as the fair haired Hobbit froze to the step he was on. “So it is. Well, I have decided then. It will be very good for you, and most amusing for me.” He declared and suddenly, Bilbo was freed from his stupor.

“Wai- What? No. No, no, no. What are thinking? Stop!” Bilbo cried out as the wizard turned to walk back down The Hill. “Come back here!” He called and Gandalf stopped.

“What is it my dear boy?” The wizard called turning slightly to face Bilbo.

“What do you mean ‘it will be good for me?’ What will be good for me?” The Hobbit demanded.

“Why that’s simple.” The wizard smiled and turned fully to the exasperated Hobbit. “Becoming a Dwarf!”

“Me! A Dwarf?”

“Yes, and as I said it will be very good for you, and most amusing for me.” With that Gandalf smiled before turning away from Bag End and walking down the hill. Completely oblivious to the stuttering Hobbit. He called out over his shoulder as he walked briskly away. “I will see you at the end of the week, Bilbo!”

He stood on the bottom step for a few minutes watching the wizard’s back as he retreated down the hill and out finally of sight. He shook his head before turning around and running into his Smial swiftly. He locked the round door and let out a heavy sigh. He decided then that wizards were far too annoying to put up with for more than a few minutes and that they obviously had no care for another’s wishes; although, Bilbo couldn’t deny that he felt rather happy at the thought of being able to go to the Dwarven ball at the end of the week, even if he was unsure of Gandalf’s intentions and if it was even possible to turn a Hobbit into a Dwarf.

He shook his head and pushed the thoughts away, it was almost Tea Time and he had yet to prepare anything. He began to prepare a batch of fresh scones and his tea and in no time at all his encounter with the wizard was forgotten.


End file.
